


Depression

by joshuaorrizonte



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Depression, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts, angsty asra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:35:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21849046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshuaorrizonte/pseuds/joshuaorrizonte
Summary: Asra returns from a trip to discover the apprentice bedridden, and having not opened the shop in days. He doesn't know how to handle it when they finally tell him what's wrong.
Kudos: 26





	Depression

Asra was late getting home. They hadn’t wanted him to go; had begged him not to, in fact. But he was feeling too much, it was getting too hard to bury, too hard to breathe, and ultimately, he had convinced them that he had to go.

He never told them why he was leaving, just a bone-deep need; he had wondered how he held it together that first long year, the year he cared for them until they could care for themself. All he knew was that he was barely holding himself together by the time he was convinced that they could handle themselves.

He covered for that first trip by telling them that he was going to Nevivon for things they could sell in their shop. And that’s what he did, but he had chosen Nevivon for that trip because it would take a while. He could’ve gotten everything but the bath salts at Nopal, but that was too close. He needed to have enough time to firmly bury his emotions before he said or did something stupid, something that would possibly ruin their trust in him. Something that he knew would definitely trigger an episode.

Those episodes were almost as painful for him as he imagined they were for them. His heart broke every time the headaches overtook them, and, less often, every time they went catatonic from trying to help them remember. He had learned his lesson, finally, after the last time they tried to restore their memory; Asra knew how close he had come to losing them again, couldn’t bring himself to risk it again. They would simply never have their memory back, and Asra had to learn to live with that, but he couldn’t, so he ran.

Lucio’s favorite way to insult Asra was to tell him how much of a coward Asra was, and that first trip, Asra believed it. He was gone for nearly a month, and almost left for good, terrified of what he’d find at the shop after so long.

What he’d found was a shop in good order and a relieved apprentice, ecstatic that Asra was back. He was glad he hadn’t run. That didn’t make it any easier to be in love with them and knowing that love could literally kill them.

So he kept running, running to put distance between him and them, physically and emotionally. He thought that maybe he’d be able to stick around a bit longer this time, and he couldn’t wait to see their face when he presented them with the gift he had bought them on this trip: a beautiful leather-bound journal. They could use it as a spellbook. Asra was worlds more confident in their abilities than they were; perhaps having a central place for them to record their favorite spells would help with that confidence.

It was late, the lights in the shop off. Asra unlocked the door and dispelled the wards on it before stepping in the dark shop, locking and warding the door behind him. He called their name softly, setting his hat on the counter. No answer; they were probably asleep. He unwound his scarf from his shoulders as he climbed the stairs, looking on into the room at their sleeping form. Asra gently reached out with his magic, sensed that they were alive and well, and set about undressing for bed.

In minutes, Asra was in a deep sleep; they had nestled close to him when he climbed into bed. Usually he very gently extricated himself when they did that, but he couldn’t tonight. He had missed them so much.

Sunlight woke him the next day; they slept soundly on, and Asra watched them sleep for a few moments before pulling away and getting up. The shop had to be opened, but they had been doing it for a month straight. He could do it, give them the chance to rest.

He dressed quietly, got himself a cup of tea and some toast, and went downstairs and unlocked the door, flipped the sign to read ‘open’, and settled behind the counter, sipping his tea.

The first customer came quickly. “Asra!” the man greeted. He was a regular, although Asra didn’t know his name. “Am I glad to see you! Why was the shop closed all week?”

Asra blinked, taken aback. “The shop’s been closed all week? Why would they-“ Then he caught himself. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “I just got home last night. They were asleep when I got home and asleep when I got up. I’ll ask them when they get up. What can I do for you?”

"I just need some feverfew."

Asra nodded and turned to the shelves behind him. "You could've gone to the apocathary up the street," he said, sounding apologetic. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you came here, but if this was an urgent need-"

"I don't know the quality of their goods up there. I know yours is quality, and it wasn't _too_ urgent."

"Mm." Asra found the jar and opened it. "How much do you need?"

"A silver's worth."

Asra got the required herb from the jar and wrapped it up for the customer. "Thank you for your patience," Asra told him as he left. The customer waved and left the shop, and Asra stood there in the empty shop, thinking, confused. Why hadn't his apprentice opened the shop?

It was something for him to discuss with them when they got up. Hours passed, though, and there was no hint of movement from upstairs. Were they sick? The thought made Asra's heart skip a beat, feeling almost like a physical blow. Asra had managed to keep them healthy since their resurrection, mostly because the thought of them getting sick after dying of sickness was one that nearly induced panic in Asra. He knew that the red plague was gone- it had resolved itself _somehow_, although Asra didn't know how- but that didn't mean that there were no illnesses that could take life. 

When lunchtime came and went and his apprentice still hadn't seemed to move, Asra flipped the sign to read 'closed' and went up the stairs. They had shifted position in bed, but still slept on. Asra sat on the side of the bed, watching them for several moments before reaching out and stroking their shoulder lightly, with just enough pressure to wake them up. They gasped and their eyes flew open, startled, and then settled back down when they saw who it was. "Asra. You're home." It was said with a sleepy smile.

"Yes. I got home late last night but I didn't want to wake you. Although it's past high noon now." They made a noncommittal noise, rubbing their eyes and yawning. Asra said their name questioningly, and when they didn't respond but for another questioning noise, he asked, "Why didn't you open the this week? Are you ill?"

"N-no, I just... I didn't have it in me."

Asra's heart sank. "What do you mean?"

They looked away. "I missed you so much, and I thought you would be back last week. When you didn't come home, I just... couldn't do it anymore. I can pretend if you're here. If you're not, I-"

"Pretend?" Silence answered him. He said their name again. "What are you pretending?"

They sighed. "Pretending to... I don't know... know what I'm doing? Pretend to-" They looked away here. "Pretend to be happy."

Asra immediately put his hand over their's. "You've been pretending to be happy? Why? And how can I help?"

Again, they said nothing, and at Asra's questioning noise, they said, "I don't think you can. I don't think anything can help. I feel so helpless, so _hopeless_. I still have no idea who I am, I still can't remember _anything_, and now you're telling me not to try to remember and I don't know why. Was I always this sad? I don't know! I want to remember who I am!"

"You're you. That's all that matters. And I told you not to try to remember because of the headaches you get when you do try. I- I want you to remember as much as you want to remember, but it's not worth the pain. It's _not_. You're you. That's got to be enough."

"It's not. I- I'd rather be dead, than-"

"You don't mean that." They cut their words off, eyes wide. Asra sounded _tearful_, and when they looked up at him, his eyes were overbright, like he was suddenly having to hold back tears. "You don't mean that," he repeated, and it sounded more like a plea than an order or a question.

"Asra?" they said, reaching out for him. He went to them, bending over them to wrap his arms around them and bury his face in their shoulder. He couldn't stop the tears, holding them tightly against him as he cried into their shoulder. They rubbed his back, confused, until it seemed that he was in control of his emotions again.

"I'm sorry," Asra said, pulling away from them. "It's just... If only you knew..." He wiped his tear-streaked face, a wavering smile on his lips. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I didn't mean to break down like that."

"I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have said-"

"No. No no no. I'm glad you said it." He huffed. "I just don't know what to _do_ about it. Attempting to get your memories back has caused you so much pain, and there's nothing I can do to stop it or ease it. I don't know what to do." He sighed. "Your memory is off the table. It's not going to happen. I can't watch you hurt yourself trying to remember."

They nodded, looking away, at nothing in particular. "I... tried. At the beginning of the week. That's why I didn't open the shop the first few days. I _couldn't_. I was in too much pain."

"I'm so sorry." Asra embraced them again, hand going to the back of their head. "How are you now? Any pain now?"

"Just a tiny ache. It's only noticable when I think about it." They sighed. "I'm sorry," they apologize again. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset- with _you_, at any rate. You did nothing wrong. I _want_ you to tell me when something's wrong." He chews his thumbnail, looking at them in thinly-veiled consternation. "And I don't want you to feel like you're better off dead, either."

"I won't do anything stupid, promise."

"Thank you for that, but that doesn't change the fact that you feel this way and that's not good." They sat in silence for a few minutes, at an impasse. Asra finally speaks again: "And I can't stop going on trips, either."

"Why do you have to go, anyway?" 

"I have to get things for the-"

"You haven't done that in a year."

Asra's face colored. "How do you know I didn't do that this time?"

"Did you?"

Rather than answering them, Asra said, "It's- it's for my own wellbeing."

He barely held back a cringe as he realized how that would sound to someone in their state. "Am I that much of a burden?"

"No! You are _not_ a burden. Not at all. Don't ever think that. I've just... been like this since before we met." It wasn't quite a lie. Asra spent a lot of his time moving from place to place before meeting them, and even in the six years they'd known each other, his trips to Nopal were frequent and often long. "I just have to _move_. I don't know why, and I stopped trying to figure it out long ago. It has nothing to do with you. I promise."

That seemed to make them breathe a sigh of relief. "I don't want to be a burden on you, and I know... I was difficult at the- at the beginning."

"You weren't difficult. It was a difficult position for both of us to be in, and it wasn't your fault, either. You have nothing to worry about then." A thought occured to him. "You've never been a burden to me. I helped you because I _wanted_ to. And I've never resented you for it. Neither of us could help your situation except to work through it."

"Thank you."

It was Asra's turn to sigh in relief. "Feel better?"

"A little." They took a deep breath, and then said, "But I want to try to remember." Asra said their name in an almost warning tone, and they cut him off, "Have you _ever_ lost your memory like this, Asra? Do you know how this feels?"

He shook his head. "I admit that I don't, but I don't want to see you in pain. You made yourself bedridden with it."

"But you're here now. And it never hurts as much when you're here."

Asra wanted to tell them in no uncertain terms that he wasn't going to go along with this. Trying to remember _hurt_ them, for all Asra knew it could _kill_ them. Yet he knew that they'd try even if he said he wouldn't help, and he could never say no to them, anyway. After a moment's hesitation, he nodded. "Alright. But if this doesn't work, no more. I can't watch you continuing to do this to yourself. I need you to promise me that you won't try to remember anymore if we have to stop. Alright?"

They seemed just as hesitant as Asra, but nodded their agreement. "I promise. If I can't do it this time, I- I'll stop." They exhaled in a sharp puff of breath. "I don't know what I'm going to do if we can't do it, but-"

"What you- what _we_\- are going to do is learn to live with it. What matters now is that you're alive, you're here, you're whole. Memory or not, you're a complete person. You're not missing _anything_. You are exactly what you need to be."

They smiled at him. "When you put it that way, I almost believe it."

Asra returned the smile, forcing himself to. He didn't want to smile. He was scared. He never knew what exactly trying to remember would do to them, and he'd already completely lost his reason once when it came to them. That was the reason they were here in the first place. It would ruin him completely if he lost them again.

He just had to make sure that didn't happen. "Alright. I need you to close your eyes, and focus on my voice..." As they obeyed him, he reached out with his magic. A pang of guilt shimmered through him as he began gently dismantling their memory of the last week. He felt them sink into unconsciousness as he worked, his mind in turmoil. This was a temporary solution, he knew. If they were depressed about their memory, the issue would come up again.

But he would be there this time. He'd stay there as long as he could stand it, he had to. He had to be there for them. He felt so guilty, full of regret for how things turned out, for what he _did_ to them when he brought them back. None of this had been his intention. He hadn't wanted to inflict this pain on them, yet he had. It was almost enough to make him decide to pack his bag and leave again.

But he wouldn't. He couldn't. He _couldn't_. In minutes, they were completely relaxed, sleeping peacefully, and Asra was certain their memory was gone. He sat back, running his hands through his hair as he watched them sleep. He sighed after a moment, sitting on the chair on the other side of the room. Taking their memory of the last week would take their memory of his return, and he wanted them to know he was back the moment they woke up. They would talk about their depression, and they'd get through it, together. He had to believe that they would be alright.


End file.
